Rome (Marked Men #3)(49)

He walked away leaving me speechless. Rowdy slid up next to me and hooked my arm through his.

“You’re gonna be a great mom. Everything else will fall into place and everybody else can get over their own shit.”

I grunted and rested my head on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“What about the guy? He the right one to do this with?”

“I think so.” And I really did. He might make me work a little bit for it, but I really did think he was worth the effort. I was so happy to hear that he had taken steps on his own to seek out some help for the nightmares chasing him from his time in the military. I could chase the shadows with him, as long as he was willing to let me bring the light in.

“He hasn’t let me get upright since we started this thing.” I wiggled my eyebrows up and down suggestively, which made him laugh. “Literally and figuratively.”

“Sideways it is.” Rowdy reached down and patted my still-flat tummy. “This is going to be so fun to watch.”

I snorted at him and elbowed him in the side. The fact was, I could do sideways. I could do the unexpected. What I couldn’t do was heartbroken and shattered, so big brother better be on board with that or there was no telling what I was going to do. Heck, I would even be able to blame it on hormones.

CHAPTER 10

Rome

Taking it slow sucked. Don’t get me wrong, I was pretty sure I was falling in love with Cora. I had spent the last two weeks trying to drink her out of my head and feeling like a royal ass**le for ditching her without a word. It was another pu**y move in a list that seemed to be growing by leaps and bounds. I was embarrassed by the fact I couldn’t pull it together, ashamed she had seen me so broken and open. I had known going in that she was leery about all the dips and valleys in my personality, but having her bear witness to my own personal hell was just too much for my ego and already battered pride to take, so I ran. It was cowardly and it was weak, but I didn’t think I could handle her looking at me like I was someone to pity, someone that needed to be fixed. So I buried my head in a bottle of vodka and tried to drink it all away. My reasons for avoiding her didn’t hold any more water than my reasons for avoiding my folks, a fact that I couldn’t ignore or drink away.

It became apparent the very next day that not talking to her, not being able to touch her, to hold her, hurt way worse than my pride did. She was under my skin, buried far enough down that I realized if I had to get help in order to be someone she could be with, then that was my only option and it was time to stop running and just do it. I was so glad she was willing to give me another shot. I needed her, and now with the baby, messed up or not, I was pretty sure she needed me, too. I was willing to do whatever it took to make this thing between us work, even if that meant all the sexual attraction and potent heat that had drawn us together initially had to be banked. There was nothing quite like being put in the friend zone by your pregnant girlfriend.

I spent the entire month of September keeping my hands in my pockets and my dick in my pants. I went with Cora to the doctor, which was exciting and terrifying at the same time. We went to dinner, hung out like a normal couple that was just starting to date, and I even entertained the idea of making peace with my folks like I had tentatively done with Shaw, because I knew it would make her happy and I was sick of running scared. I was tired of trying to guess what others’ expectations of me were and had to get my head around the idea that my expectations of myself were enough. The idea of bridging that gap did make her happy, which made me happy, even if the idea was like torture for me. I just didn’t know what to say to them in order to get the conversation started.

It was fine, the slower pace. I liked spending time with her, we got along great, and when we didn’t, the way those two-toned eyes flashed and sparked a million different colors made me have visions of makeup sex that were triple-X-rated. It wasn’t like I was only with her to hook up, but I would be a big fat liar if I didn’t admit that I missed it, missed her and all that colorful skin. Sex with Cora was unlike sex I had ever had before, and not just because she was pierced down there and had all those colorful jewels embedded in her skin. Despite her refrain that she was holding out for some unobtainable vision of perfect, she just got me, like really got me even though I was as far from perfect as a guy could get.

I didn’t know how she could stand the lack of sex either. Her hormones were all over the place lately. She was more mouthy and a little snarkier than usual, but there was something in her eyes. I would catch her looking at me out of the corner of her eye, like she was feeling the same repressed desire as I was. Like we were sitting on the brink of something major, something bigger than everything we had experienced before, but it was like she was scared of the drop-off. She let me kiss her, let me cuddle her up on the couch while we watched movies, she was openly affectionate, holding my hand, wrapping her arms around me, and letting me know she was there. She was always the one who pulled away, who cut the contact short and stayed on the right side of sexually unfulfilled. I could see the regret, the frustration on her pretty face, but I wasn’t willing to push my luck, so I didn’t question it or try and push it with her. She was willing to take me as is. I was willing to take her and any obstacles she put in my way as par for the course. Sometimes I thought she looked at me like she was downright terrified, not of me, but of something I was making her think or feel.

I was making up for lost time at the bar as well as trying to get my relationship with Brite and the regulars back on track. Brite was back, mostly I think to make sure I didn’t drink him out of bar and profit the way I had at the end of the previous month. I think he was worried I was going to spiral out of control again. To prove to him that I had no intention of ruining my life, of letting Cora raise that baby alone without me, I was working extra hard and had all the improvements he asked for nearly done. I had even found a few of my own to add to the upgrades. The place looked like a nearly new bar; it was spotless, polished, and not a surface wasn’t touched up and brand-new. There was an influx of new blood coming in the door and business had picked up enough that Brite asked Asa to stay on as the permanent evening bartender. My personal thought on that was that he liked the view. There wasn’t a night the bar wasn’t surrounded by pretty young things all clamoring for the blond country boy’s attention. Asa was just that good.